


Hallowed Ground

by musiclily88



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American set, College, Demons, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, OT5, OT5 Friendship, and weirdness, cuteness, please do not go into that haunted graveyard i beg you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-15 06:16:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20861603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: Zayn starts spluttering as soon as he realizes where Niall is driving in his beat-up Volkswagen. “We’re not going to that graveyard, Ni.”“Dude, I learned to drive in a graveyard. The paths are paved and wide, and there’s no possibility of killing anyone because they’re all already dead.”“You’re not funny,” Zayn mutters, curling his legs up beneath himself in the passenger seat.:Alternately: GHOSTS AND DEMONS





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> happy spooky month, have some graveyard fun
> 
> p.s. I learned to drive in a cemetery and I have thus far not killed a single person ever

“Dude, I can’t believe you’re twenty-one and still haven’t learned how to drive,” Niall says languidly from his spot star-fishing on the floor of Zayn’s apartment.

“I grew up in New York. The only people who drive there are psychopaths and taxi-drivers. And that Venn diagram overlaps a lot,” Zayn points out, taking a hit off his pen before offering It over.

“What do you know of psychopaths? You’re not the psychology major in this room,” Niall replies, waving away the pen. “And like, what if I got in a terrible accident, and you had to take me to the hospital, but you had no idea how to drive?”

Zayn shrugs. “I’d call a cab, I guess.”

“You just said almost all cabbies are psychopaths, ya dingus. How high are you?” Niall asks, levering himself up on one arm.

“Medium,” he replies before launching himself unceremoniously onto Niall’s prone body so he can tickle him until he calls uncle.

:

Niall seeks revenge the next day, yanking open Zayn’s black-out curtains and stripping off all of Zayn’s blankets.

Zayn’s groan is guttural.

“Good, you’re awake,” and the smile in Niall’s voice is palpable. “Also, you look hungover. Why do you look hungover? You always say that you’d rather smoke than drink because then you don’t get a hangover.”

“I look hungover because I’m tired and for some reason you’re my best friend who won’t leave me alone to sleep.”

Niall hops onto the mattress, bouncing it slightly. “I’m here to teach you important life skills.”

“You’re not one of my college professors, Ni.”

Niall snorts. “Nah, if I was, you’d prolly have slept with me already to get a passing grade.”

Rather than reply, Zayn kicks him off the bed.

Niall moans. “Ow. You bruised my spleen. I need to go to the hospital immediately.”

Sighing, Zayn moves to the edge of his mattress. “Where’s your spleen, then?”

“In the car.”

:

Zayn starts spluttering as soon as he realizes where Niall is driving in his beat-up Volkswagen. “We’re not going to that graveyard, Ni.”

“Dude, I learned to drive in a graveyard. The paths are paved and wide, and there’s no possibility of killing anyone because they’re all already dead.”

“You’re not funny,” Zayn mutters, curling his legs up beneath himself in the passenger seat.

“I’m hilarious. Plus, it’s something my mom said every time she taught me to drive, so shut up.”

Zayn sighs. “Fine. But only because I love your mother. She’s number two in my emergency contacts.”

“Damn right, she’s the best.” Niall pauses at a red light, waiting to turn left. “Wait, is that higher or lower than me?”

“Not really sure you want to know.”

:

As Zayn buckles up his seatbelt, Niall leans forward, left hand against the top of the door. With his other hand, he ruffles Zayn’s hair gently. 

“Stop that.”

“You’re going to be fine. The speed limit is fifteen.” Niall moves around the front of the car, tapping the hood once. Sliding into the passenger side, he gives Zayn a smile. “It’s fine.”

Zayn puts the car into drive, his right foot on the brake as he does so. “I can’t do it.”

“You can.”

:

They make a small circuit of the cemetery, sticking to the outside paved loop. Eventually, Zayn’s hands aren’t so clenched on the wheel, and Niall leans in to turn on the radio. “No AUX plugin here, sorry,” he says, flipping to the oldies station.

“If anything, just apologize that we’re listening to The Eagles right now,” Zayn responds, quirking up one side of his mouth.

“Fuck off. The only reason you know who they are is because of me.”

:

They do three more looping circuits before heading towards the center of the graveyard, where the roads are a bit narrower. By then, Zayn’s breathing has slowed.

By the time Styx’s _ Renegade _ comes on, Niall’s stomach is rumbling from hunger. “So, dude, I’m proud of you, but I’m also starving. How about I drive us to pick up food or something?”

“Yeah, sure.” Zayn unbuckles his seatbelt, but stops Niall from undoing his with one hand.

“What?”

“You do know that I don’t even have my permit, right?”

Niall shrugs. “We’re technically on private property.” He clicks his belt off and throws open his door. “Plus, I trust you.”

As he rounds the front of the car, Zayn mutters, “You’re a goddamn fool.”

“I heard that!” Niall crows.

:

They end up at a taqueria a little ways from their apartment. Niall spots a four-top with Liam, Louis, and Harry, waving at them enthusiastically. He asks the hostess if they can join up tables, and Zayn trails along behind them, jaw clenched.

“Thank god,” Liam sighs as Zayn sits down. Niall picks up three chips, immediately dipping them into salsa. “I’m so sick of third-wheeling these two.”

“Don’t blame you, bro,” Zayn mutters, one eyebrow raised as he watches Louis flick his hair and give Harry a flirtatious smile. Harry goes a bit pink.

“Now we can two-on-three-wheel them,” Niall offers, blowing his straw paper directly into Harry’s left eye.

“I—Is that a thing?” Liam asks, pointedly ignoring Harry’s frustrated pouting and Louis’ raucous laughter.

“Sure!” Niall says, picking up more chips and ordering a margarita.

Zayn sighs.

:

As they pay the bill, Liam looks at Niall with narrowed eyes. “Did you drive here?”

“Liam,” Niall says, in warning tones he rarely uses.

“He’s fine,” Zayn says. “I trust him.” They all turn to look at him. “He drove me here,” he adds with a shrug. “If he got me killed, Moira would murder him.”

“He had one drink two hours ago, daddy Liam,” Louis tacks on, ducking out of the way when Liam swipes a hand at him.

“Don’t call me that.”

Niall clears his throat. “Speaking of,” he announces, “guess who’s finally learning how to drive?” He knocks his shoulder against Zayn’s, and they all golf-clap politely while Zayn blushes.

“That’s great, Z,” Harry drawls. “Next, I can teach you to ride a motorcycle, if you want.”

Now they all turn to look at _ him. _ Spindly limbs aside, they eventually agree that Harry kinda-maybe-sorta could be someone who could possibly-eventually own a bitching motorcycle.

“I already own one,” Harry says, scrunching his brow.

“You do?” Louis asks, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah.” Harry looks confused as to why they look confused. “School said we’re not allowed to have cars on campus until junior year. They never said anything about motorcycles.”

Louis plants a kiss at Harry’s temple while Niall gives him an impressed look, congratulating his ingenuity. Liam and Zayn look at one another, baffled.

Liam speaks first, seemingly attempting for tactful. “Sometimes I forget you’re not as old as the rest of us.”

“You’re forgiven,” Harry says, giving a shit-eating grin so big that his dimples pop.

The others throw chips at him until the manager yells at them to leave the restaurant.

:

It’s Louis’ idea that they drive to a different _ haunted _ graveyard, because of course it is. And because it’s October, and because he really wants to see Zayn drive, and Liam doesn’t get out enough, and Louis really wants to ride on the back of Harry’s motorcycle, well—they barely protest, because it’s Louis.

Zayn agrees silently, shrugging as he pulls his pen out to take a pull before getting into the car. Even the act of it calms his nerves a bit, but just barely.

Niall rolls his eyes, hip-checking Liam gently. “You got here on the bus, yeah? Wanna come with us?”

“Why not.” He mutters something about tricycles before clambering into Niall’s back seat.

:

They follow Louis’directions, which are surprising cogent, sunset purpling the sky to their right as they drive. Liam and Zayn eventually veto the oldies station for some R&B, so Niall opens all the windows and locks them down, the wind drowning out the music.

To retaliate, Zayn puts his feet on the dash and Liam lies flat on the full of the backseat.

They bicker loudly over the wind and the music for a while, until they see Harry’s motorcycle stopped beside a gravel road with a crude sign reading _ Applebaum Way. _

Louis takes off his helmet and walks over, ducking his head in one open window. “It’s narrow up here, didn’t want to lose you. It’s like a half-mile up on the right.”

“Are we going to get shot here, Lou?” Zayn asks, tone brooking no foolishness.

“Abandoned for years.”

“He’s paranoid cuz cemeteries are private property,” Niall adds, putting the car into drive to turn onto the gravel road.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Noted.”

They all pull up beside one another at the lip of the graveyard, the gates of which are open. Harry turns towards them and cuts his engine. “What next?”

Niall considers this for a moment. “I think Zayn needs to learn to night drive. Like. Drive in the dark.”

“I think you need to learn to fuck off.”

:  
They all pile into Niall’s crappy car, Louis complaining that he’s in the middle in the back until he realizes he can shunt some of his weight onto Harry’s lap.

“All right!” Harry yells into the night. “Gimme some ghostie!”

Louis starts humming the Ghostbusters theme-song while Zayn carefully puts the car into drive. Niall gently murmurs to him where the car’s controls are, although the lights are already on and he doesn’t technically have to use his turn signals at the moment.

“I just mean, if you wanted to, like, clean the windshield.”

“All right, Ni, even I know that’s a bit too anxious for this situation,” Zayn says, but his shoulders relax, and he lets Niall change the radio station.

Louis recommends that Zayn turn left, since that’s where the oldest headstones and mausoleums are. They crawl along, because Zayn is insistent on keeping the speed limit, and Louis wants to give them history.

“So my friend Oliver was convinced that one of his ancestors was buried here, right, so we came here when we were like eleven, and I swear to god, my bike ran into a tree and he almost passed out. It was fucked up.” Louis snorts. “He saw black spots and felt like bugs were crawling on him. I just—like.”

“What’s this place called, again?” Liam asks, phone bright in the darkness.

“Uh.” Louis exhales. “St. Felicity.”

“Why the heavy sigh?” Harry asks, voice quiet.

“She’s the patron saint of the death of children,” Liam says, looking intently at the screen.

Zayn slams on the brakes, and Niall immediately puts his arm out to protect Zayn from hitting the steering wheel. “Yo, I know that’s alarming, but I don’t—”

“I saw something,” Zayn whispers. “I _ saw _ something.”

The radio crackles and spits, changing from pop to oldies to news to nothing at all.

Louis leans forward, resting his upper body on the center console. _ “Drive.” _

:

Zayn is driving at a clip, sort of, since his fear of not being able to drive is far less than his fear of hauntings and ghosts and spirits and demons. “Someone talk,” he demands, voice sharp, hands once again gripping the wheel. “Nothing stupid or whatever, but just fucking talk. I need—not a distraction. Talk.”

“What did you see, Z?” Harry murmurs, slowly.

“Fuck, it—it looked, she looked, really, like my sister when she was little, wearing a flowery dress with—what are they called, uh—”

“Saddle shoes,” Louis says, voice hoarse. “They’re black and white, yeah. Her shoes are?”

“Fuck you, Louis,” Liam says, elbowing him in the side.

“Um.” Harry inhales sharply just as Zayn speeds up. “Was she carrying a babydoll?”

“I swear to god, Louis, if we die here, I will kill you.” Liam elbows him again.

This makes Zayn snort. “Then we can all haunt the cemetery.”

Their silence makes Zayn speed up even more.

They’re two sloping turns away from the entrance/exit of the graveyard when the radio turns back on.

“Drive!” Louis yells, rocking forward to grip Zayn’s arm.

The momentum causes Zayn to jerk slightly to the right, and they bump into a ditch. “Fuck! Get off, seriously!”

“You’re fine, love, you’ve got this, we can correct it,” Niall says immediately. He bodily pushes Louis into the back seat before leaning sideways onto the console to speak to Zayn. “Just turn the wheel left and rev it a bit. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Zayn cranks the wheel to the left, taking a deep breath. “I trust you.”

“Just a bit. You’ve got this.”

It takes two tries, but they get out of the ditch with some sputtering.

“Okay!” Niall yells happily, “Now correct right about halfway—yeah, that’s it. Keep the brights on, we should be able to see the next turn soon.”

:

The radio continues to blare music, but no one speaks until they’re out of the cemetery, right by Harry’s bike, with Zayn nearly hitting a tree. Harry throws himself out of the car, looking back with a panicked face. “Someone, please! Come on, we all need to at least get down to the highway, all of us!” He tosses himself onto his motorcycle shoving the key in with surprising grace before pulling the choke. “Now!”

“Follow us!” Louis follows, slamming the door shut. 

Zayn shoots Niall a worried, wide-eyed stare. “Switch with me.”

They throw open their doors and run, full-tilt, slamming them shut before they’re even seated. Niall pulls a hard left, spitting gravel behind him as they speed into the road.

:

They stop at a Dairy Queen, partly because it’s well-lit but also because they’re panicked and adrenaline high, needing somewhere to stop where they won’t get looked at too closely. They all crowd onto a red picnic table with red chipped paint, Harry dropping his head onto his arms, Liam’s chest heaving. Louis, Zayn, and Niall are all in a cold sweat.

They sit there for about twenty minutes until some mom—presumably a mom—with four kids clears her throat at them, expectantly.

Harry starts to give an excuse, but Louis sets a hand on his arm wearily. They all stand up, moving back into the parking lot.

“I’m never going into a graveyard again,” Zayn declares, running a hand through his hair as he pivots on one foot.

“Well, at least not til you’re dead,” Louis jokes, immediately sobering when they all look at him with murderous glances. “All right, fine, I’m the one with a foot already in the grave, if your faces are anything to go by.”

“This isn’t a joke!” Liam yells, stepping towards Louis.

“Hey, stop.” Harry puts a hand on Louis’ chest. “This is what they want, right?”

“Who?” Zayn and Louis ask.

“The—spirits?” Harry heaves a sigh. “I don’t know, I’m depleted. Let’s talk about this tomorrow or something.”

Niall scrubs at his face. “All right, sounds good. But, like, as long as we’re here, we’re getting something to eat. I’m depleted too.” He looks at Zayn, giving him a small smile. “Z?”

“Yeah, I’ll come with.”

They stand in line at the walk-up window, shoulder to shoulder, and Zayn grabs onto Niall’s hand hard. They squeeze tightly to one another while ordering, only relenting slightly when they have to retrieve their orders.

“Hey,” Zayn says, “I know, like, we maybe almost died back there, but. Um. Other than that. Thanks for today.”

Niall leans in to give Zayn a kiss on his jaw. “You’re welcome.”

They both duck their heads down for a moment as the other boys cat-call them, and they walk back towards Niall’s car and Harry’s motorcycle.

And because he’s walking right next to Niall, Zayn doesn’t see Niall’s eyes go pitch-black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please don’t.”
> 
> No one’s sure exactly who says it, but they all feel it.

They eat their ice cream slowly, savoring it as though it’s the first real indication that they’re actually alive.

“So, like,” Harry begins, slurping his soft-serve down while making very intense eye-contact with Louis. “Did we all just survive a horror movie?”

Zayn nearly chokes on the last bite of his cone, and both Niall and Liam clap him on the back as he coughs. Once he catches his breath, he clicks his tongue. “Next time someone needs to learn night driving, we’re going to a fucking nature preserve or some shit.”

:

Harry takes Liam home, since they live a block away from one another, and Louis hops into the back of Niall’s car, a forced smile on his face.

Zayn sighs, turning around in his seat, pen in his right hand. He inhales deeply, exhaling directly into Louis’ face. “What.”

“Sorry I made you drive into a ditch by touching you inappropriately.”

“Louis.”

He blinks, face slackening. “Yes?”

“There is probably a better way to phrase that.”

“Sorry that I dislocated your shoulder after I saw a translucent girl in a stupid dress and then we almost ran into a tree?”

Zayn swats at Louis’ head, and he ducks away, laughing. “You didn’t dislocate shit. You have noodle arms just like Harry.”

“Fuck off! I am very manly!”

Niall and Zayn both snort. “If only Harry could hear you right now,” Niall says, his voice a weird sing-song.

“What. Why.”

Niall stops at a four-way intersection, looking both ways before moving forward. “You know he’d give you a lecture about misogyny and fragile masculinity and the fact that gender is a social construct.”

Louis gives a soft snort from the back seat.

“I mean,” Zayn says slowly, voice tacky even before he takes another hit. “He wouldn’t be wrong.”

“I know, that’s why I’m annoyed,” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. “How’d you know that’s what he’d say, anyway, Ni?”

Niall shrugs. “I’m prescient.”

“Zayn,” Louis says slowly, taking the proffered pen from Zayn’s hand.

“What.”

“So, like.” He takes a slow pull from the pen before handing it back to Zayn. “I know it wasn’t cool to grab your arm while we were being hunted by the ghost of a creepy dead child and her creepy doll.”

“Right.”

“But is it cool if I smack Niall for being a pretentious dick?”

Zayn considers this. “Just do it gently.”

Louis settles for flicking Niall’s right ear, and he and Zayn descend into loud laughter.

And, as Zayn turns around to slap palms, Niall’s facing straight forward, his gaze trained on the road in front of him.

That’s why neither of them sees his eyes go black.

:

Louis plants a sloppy kiss onto both Niall and Zayn from the backseat, shoving open the car door. “See you degenerates tomorrow morning!”

“I don’t wake up before noon!” Zayn yells out the open window, flicking Louis off.

They peel away to the sound of Niall and Louis’ laughter.

:

Niall shoves open the door their apartment, the jamb sticking as always. He rolls his shoulders and toes off his shoes before walking to the kitchen. “Man, I’m wrecked,” he says, opening the fridge to grab the water pitcher Niall once insisted on buying. “Think Harry had it right when he said he was depleted.”

“Yeah, depleted,” Niall says, shuffling into the kitchen, rubbing at his forehead with one hand.

Zayn sets the pitcher aside immediately, moving to grab Niall by the hip and shoulder. Niall curls his face into Zayn’s neck. “Whoa, whoa. You okay?”

“I don’t—I don’t.” He shudders under Zayn’s touch for a moment, neck cracking loudly. Then he sighs. “Yeah.”

“Yeah _ what?” _

Niall extricates himself slowly, gently. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He gives Zayn a languid smile.

“Are—”

Niall moves his hand to the side of Zayn’s face, his thumb tracing along Zayn’s jaw for a moment. “I’m fine.” He kisses the right corner of Zayn’s lip. “Trust me.”

Zayn stays ram-rod straight. “Right.” He gives a stiff smile, backing away. Niall moves forward again, lips pursed. “No! No, we’re good,” he says, mind reeling. “How about I tuck you into bed.”

“Okay,” Niall says, with none of his normal enthusiasm. He does an about-face and heads directly into Zayn’s room, collapsing onto the bed fully clothed, star-fishing.

“You okay?”

“Not drunk, promise.”

Zayn nods. “I know,” he says, moving to cover Niall with the blanket.

“No!”

Zayn takes two startled steps backwards, mouth falling open. “Okay.”

“I need you.” Niall rolls onto his side, facing the wall, his jaw clenched and his fists tight.

“I’m here.”

“No you’re not.”

Zayn inches forward, slowly, until he can brush the hair off of Niall’s brow. “Babe, let’s get you out of your jeans, and I’ll get you something to eat, yeah?”

Niall goes lax. “Don’t leave me.”

“I know, babe. You’re okay.” He helps Niall shimmy out of his jeans, throwing them across the room. “It’s gonna be okay. You trust me?”

“Trust you.”

“Okay.” Zayn grabs the comforter. “Get under the blanket so you don’t get cold. I’ll make you some popcorn, how about.”

Niall yanks the sheet and blanket out of Zayn’s hand, rolling away from him. He starts to shiver.

Zayn bolts from the room, facetiming Louis, Harry, and Liam almost before he shuts his door. “Help me, help me, help me,” he begs as they come online. He darts into the bathroom, eyes welling up with tears as he shuts the door. Likely, they’ve never seen him like this, stoic that he is, emotionless as he pretends to be.

“Whoa, holy shit, what’s going on?” Louis asks, scrubbing his eyes. He’s topless, looking half-asleep.

“There’s something wrong.” He gets into the empty bathtub, curling into the side and pulling the curtain around himself.

“What?” Liam asks, rolling his shoulders slowly. “What’s wrong.”

_ “There’s something wrong with Niall.” _

Harry immediately pulls his hair back, securing it with a hairband. “I can be there in—”

“Your ass better be picking me up,” Liam growls, video on his phone going fuzzy as he moves out of his bedroom.

“Okay,” Harry drawls, and somehow he’s already in skinnies and a Packers t-shirt as he picks up his keys from the side table by his front door.

“Wait, what?” Liam asks, shaking himself slightly. “Did you say something about Niall? Our Niall?”

Zayn hisses in frustration, flicking them off. “Be quieter!”

“And I’ll just, what, take an Uber there?” Louis grumbles, zipping himself into an Umbra windbreaker.

_ “Yes!” _ they all yell at him, even after Zayn asked them to be quiet. 

He mutes his phone, ears straining.

He hears nothing, and somehow, that worries him more than anything. “Please hurry.”

Louis blinks three times, stumbling his way into a pair of slip-on Vans. “Wait, you’re serious? This is serious?”

Zayn finds himself unable to speak. Harry scrubs a hand across his face as Liam pulls rank. “This is _ Niall. _ Get yourself there and stop asking questions.”

:

They show up an ungodly amount of time later, in that Zayn has lost count of time and also he cannot be trusted to be rational while in such a panic.

He tiptoes out of the bathroom when he gets a text from Louis saying he’s arriving. He opens the front door, easing it gently shut behind him.

“I hope to fucking god that doesn’t immediately lock behind you,” Louis says, but them he bum-rushes Zayn into a hug.

“You can stop now.” Zayn yanks himself out of Louis’ grasp. “Sorry. I just.”

“Freaking the fuck out.” Louis nods, waving over his shoulder to Liam and Harry as they park. “I get it.”

“How’d they get here after you?”

“If you haven’t bribed someone to disobey the speed limit by offering sexual favors, you haven’t lived,” Louis mutters, flicking Zayn in the forehead. “But then. You don’t drive, do you?”

Zayn rounds on Louis, shoving his shoulders. “This isn’t about me or us or anything else, okay? This is about Niall. It’s not about you not liking me.”

“Who said I don’t like you?” Louis mutters as Liam and Harry lope towards them.

Harry immediately takes Zayn’s face in his hands, cradling his cheeks. “We can’t have in-fighting.” He slides his hands down, clapping them onto Zayn’s shoulders. “But also, we could stand to stop making jokes about sexual favors.”

“Now is not the time for feminist rhetoric, babe,” Louis says on a sigh.

Harry steps away from Zayn, sighing. “There’s never a wrong time for feminist rhetoric.”

“Oh my god, yes there is, for god’s sake,” Liam says, pushing Harry out of the way. “Sorry not sorry, but can we get on with this?”

Zayn nods. “Except I’ve never done an exorcism before.”

“Sweet, glad I brought my holy water,” Louis says, shoving his hand into his back pocket so he can bring out a small plastic bottle. “Did you know they sell these at corner stores sometimes?”

“Neat.” Zayn frowns. “Actually, that seems to the most helpful thing we’ve got. Shit.”

:

They don’t precisely tiptoe back into the apartment, because the cat’s basically out, but they still don’t want to startle Niall and whatever form is inside him.

Zayn pushes open his bedroom door, and Niall’s star-fished like always, but he’s sweaty and pinched. Zayn goes towards him, kneeling at the edge of the mattress. “Niall, babe,” he says, placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder, only to have Niall immediately convulse, his body heaving upwards, kicking Zayn with both legs. Zayn falls off the bed, eyes filling with tears again. 

He scoots away on the floor, tears blinding him, until Liam catches him, arms tight around his shoulders. Liam pulls him backwards towards the door, his embrace warm.

Louis heaves a small sigh. He gives Harry a closed-mouth kiss before he toes out of his shoes and walks toward the bed.

“Please don’t.”

No one’s sure exactly who says it, but they all feel it.

_ Please don’t do it. _

Louis gets to the edge of the bed and smiles. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Niall bucks up again, back cracking loudly.

“I know. It’s hard to be alone, isn’t it?” he asks, placing one hand on Niall’s shoulder.

Niall whines, collapsing back onto the bed.

“I know.” Louis leans in. “Guess what? Can I tell you a secret?”

His head rocks backward.

“I really think my sister would like to meet you,” Louis says, petting at Niall’s hair for a moment. “Her name’s Felicite. I know it’s spelled a little different than that St. Felicity, but I’ve never actually been too good at spelling, either,” he adds, “so who can blame them, right?”

Liam chokes out a small laugh. Harry starts to cry, or maybe he’s been crying the whole time, but either way he forces a hand over his mouth for a moment. Zayn gently tugs the other hand, pulling him in to a full-body hug.

Louis pauses, nodding again. “I know it’s scary, sweetheart. And I promise you, with all my heart, it’s going to be okay.” He goes silent, a small smile at his lips. “Babe, I need to ask you a favor.”

Niall curls up, legs pulled up towards his chest. 

“You feel alone here, I know. But it’s the being _ here _ that’s the thing, sweetheart. You’re trying to not be alone, right?” Louis murmurs, holding onto Niall as he goes prostrate.

Zayn tries to dart forward, but Liam grabs him by the waist, hushing him.

“So, I gotta favor to ask,” Louis repeats, waiting for him to settle, brushing aside Niall’s sweaty bangs. “And it’s a big one. The thing is—the thing here, it’s that my friend Niall, well, it’s not his time.”

Zayn shoves at one of Liam’s hands, only managing to face-plant into the carpet.

“And I’m guessing the reason you’re here is that you want a friend, yeah?” Louis asks.

Niall kicks out his left leg, hitting Louis in the back.

“That’s just what Fiz would’ve done if I was being annoying, so, yeah,” Louis says, snorting. “I think you’ll get along just fine.”

Harry cries louder, and Zayn elbows Liam in the face so hard that his nose starts bleeding.

“Tell her I say hi, yeah? I’ll tell Ni the same.” Louis leans down to kiss Niall’s forehead.

:

He looks dead for a few minutes, and after the adrenaline wears off, Liam wants to call the police.

They’re bickering about it as Niall bodily rolls off the bed, collapsing onto the floor. He groans, rolling onto his side before star-fishing across the floor. “I feel like I got run over by two trucks and a steamroller.”

They crowd him stupidly, Harry grasping his hand like an old-fashioned grandmother, Liam setting a hand gently against his shoulder, and Zayn darting in for a kiss on the lips. Louis pets at Niall’s hair again.

“Christ, maybe I should get possessed more often,” he says, sitting up slowly, ushering them away.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zayn declares, moving backwards.

“Uh,” Louis says. “Uh. So I.” He can’t finish his sentence because he begins to cry.

“Her name’s Rosie.” Niall’s face softens, and he coughs once into his hand. “She says to say thank you, and also you’re very handsome.”

“That’s true,” Harry says, lips pursed, brows furrowed. “You are very handsome.”

“Shut up,” Liam and Zayn say in unison.

Niall beckons Louis in, turning them away from the others. “I—can’t. Thank you .”

“I’d do anything for you, idiot. But how is she?” Louis murmurs, burying his face into one hand.

“She’s okay,” Niall says, clapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder. “She’s golden.”

And, while that’s not a lie, well. 

Niall’s eyes still go black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........
> 
> I cried writing and editing this chapter. More than once.
> 
> xx
> 
> tumblr: musiclily


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve felt better!”
> 
> “So have I!” Louis yells in response before scrunching his face as Liam winds up to swat him. “That’s not the point.”
> 
> “I should hope not,” Harry says, ducking out of the way as Liam tries to swat at him too. “Excuse me, Liam! I’m trying to help!”

Chapter 3

Zayn clocks it first. “What the fuck!”

Niall throws his hands over his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” Louis says, cracking his knuckles. 

“Please don’t hurt me!” Niall yells, hands still clapped over his eyes. “That’s—that’s not me, there’s something else!”

“What?” Harry says, whipping his head back and forth.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!”

“We’re not going to fucking hurt you! Just open your eyes,” Liam yells, staggering backwards a bit.

“Do we really have to do another exorcism?” Harry asks, voice dipping low.

“Fuck you, you didn’t do the last one!” Louis yells, kicking the bedframe.

“You didn’t _ experience _ the last one, so, actually, fuck you both,” Niall growls, hands firmly on his eyes. “You didn’t experience being possessed at all!” Niall counters. “And this is me, by the way, not whatever thing is in my head. At least Rosie was nice. You’re just being _ dicks.” _

“Um,” Zayn says slowly. “Right, first step is keeping your eyes closed.”

“I’m not a moron, Z, please,” Niall says, voice getting high.

“We know!” Liam agrees quickly, eyes cutting sharply to Zayn, who shrugs. “How do you feel, bud?”

“I’ve felt better!”

“So have I!” Louis yells in response before scrunching his face as Liam winds up to swat him. “That’s not the point.”

“I should hope not,” Harry says, ducking out of the way as Liam tries to swat at him too. “Excuse me, Liam! I’m trying to help!”

“Anyone trying to help needs to shut up and come give me a goddamn hug!” Niall yells, his knuckles turning white from where his hands are clamped against his face.

Zayn moves quickly, darting away from Liam’s swinging arms, because he’s inexplicably still swatting his arms around. “Li, cut it out,” he mutters, kneeling down so he can press his hands on top of Niall’s. “Hey, you’re all right. Keep your eyes shut, move your hands out from under mine. I got you.”

Niall keeps his eyes squeezed shut, slowly sliding his hands out from underneath Zayn’s. He flaps his hands around for a moment until he finds Zayn’s shoulders. He heaves a sigh, pressing in hard.

“There you go, that’s right.” Zayn shoots a panicked glance around the room, hands still against Niall’s eyes. “Someone come give him a hug, for fuck’s sake, guys.”

Harry circles a bit, wide outside of the reach of Liam’s hands, and moves behind Niall. “Okay, so I’m just gonna—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead throwing his arms around Niall’s midsection and squeezing tight.

“Don’t suffocate him, H, then what’s the point of doing all this?” Louis mutters, blinking rapidly.

“I’m not suffocating him. I’m giving him deep pressure. Like Temple Grandin.”

“He’s not a cow!” Louis adds, throwing his hands into the air.

“Why are we currently having this conversation?” Niall yells, screeching slightly at the end of the sentence.

“Harry and I both tend to babble when we’re scared!”

“Oh great! I suppose we’re all always scared then, because no one here seems to know how to be quiet right now!”

“Rude,” Harry says, pouting as he squeezes Niall tighter. He has the grace to look a little guilty. “Sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Ni,” Zayn says, leaning in to kiss Niall’s forehead.

“Damn right! This one isn’t like Rosie, okay? She was just like—”

“Hitching a ride,” Louis offers. “Because you were safe.”

“Yeah.”

“Reminded her of her brother.”

Niall sighs, relaxing slightly. “Yeah.”

“What about this fucker, then?” Liam asks, now that he’s done randomly swatting at his friends, also known as the most frustrating people he has literally ever met.

“Louis, can you handle that for a second? I think I’m gonna—” Niall slumps over in Harry’s arms, Zayn’s hands still over his eyes.

“Liam, get me something we can use as a blindfold. Louis, start babbling.”

“So basically, Rosie was sort of—like, trying to hitchhike away from a really scary thing, and Niall seemed nice, which is fair, and so she caught a ride, but then so did this—thing.”

“Helpful.” Zayn rolls his eyes, catching a sock as Liam tosses it at him. “God, Liam, not that, he just wore that to soccer practice, it’s completely disgusting!” He flinches as he throws it across the room, sort-of near Niall’s overflowing hamper.

“Fine!” Liam yells, yanking open Niall’s desk drawer before immediately slamming it shut. “Shit. That was a mistake.”

“1. I don’t want to know. 2. Find me something now, my hand is starting to cramp. 3. There is no three,” Zayn growls as Harry slowly lowers Niall onto the floor, face-up. “And if there’s a four, it’s gonna be me punching you in the face.”

“Jesus Christ,” Louis says, grabbing a paisley-patterned tie from the back of Niall’s closet door. “Do I have to do everything?”

“Rude,” Harry responds, pouting slightly as he lifts up Niall’s head so he and Zayn can blindfold him. Niall’s eyelids flutter once before Harry can secure the fabric flat against his skin. He ties it and double-knots it. “Well, it’s not exactly a half-Windsor, but it’ll do.” He shrugs, putting Niall’s head back onto the floor.

“What is this thing, then?”

Louis sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t really know. I only know what I heard from Rosie. This thing didn’t talk to me the way she did. She was honestly just freaked out and, like.”

“Babbles when she’s terrified?” Zayn guesses, rocking backwards so he can sit on his haunches. “I hear there’s a club she can join, if that’s her thing.”

Harry furrows his brow. “So, Lou, you could talk to Rosie, right. Can you talk to—whatever this is? Entity? Should we call it an entity?”

“Well, I don’t know its name or gender or anything, so call it whatever you want. Go wild.” Louis leans forward, making sure the fabric of the tie is flush with Niall’s face. “And no, not really. Rosie wanted to talk to someone. This thing just wants a free ride.”

“Typical millennial,” Harry says, clucking his tongue. “Let’s call him Todd.”

“Oh my god.” Liam covers his face with both hands.

Niall gasps loudly, bolting upright. “Didn’t like that.”

“You didn’t, or Todd didn’t?” Harry asks, kneeling forward to clap a hand back on Niall’s shoulder.

“Both! Neither! I don’t know!” Niall moves both hands to his face, patting at the tie covering his eyes. “Just don’t fucking waterboard me, please!”

Louis snorts. “Again, that would defeat the purpose of saving your life.”

“Babe, babe,” Zayn murmurs, running a thumb along Niall’s jaw. “it’s just a tie. It’s just to help you keep your eyes shut. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Niall nods slowly. “Is it my good-luck tie?”

Zayn, Louis, Liam, and Harry all look at one another. Harry fish-mouths while Liam frowns and Louis shrugs. “….Sure,” Zayn agrees. “How about you lie back down?”

Harry pillows his hands so that Niall’s head doesn’t crash into the floor, and they all look at one another again.

“So, this is a thing that’s happening,” Louis drawls. “Is Todd saying anything?”

“It’s a bit chaotic,” Niall muses, curling onto his side. “I’m mostly—getting impressions?”

“Right, sometimes the spirit world is like that,” Louis agrees, pulling a grimace as he does so.

“Oh, okay.” Niall nods. “The impression I’m getting is—and I’m paraphrasing, I guess—a massive _ fuck you.” _

Harry squawks, reeling backwards.

“Todd’s a dick,” Liam says, nodding sagely. “So how do we get rid of him?”

Zayn holds out his hand to Louis, imploring him silently. Louis rolls his eyes, handing over the holy water. He flips open the top and splashes some onto Niall’s right cheek.

“Anything?” Harry asks, wiping the water away gently.

“I mean, not really. Todd’s kind of angry, I guess.” Niall laughs. “Doesn’t like being called Todd.”

“Who would _ like _ being called Todd,” Zayn asks, splashing Niall once more good measure. “Nothing?”

“Nope,” Niall says, back arching sharply, his legs kicking out wildly. “Fuck fuck fuck, make it stop!”

“All right,” Liam says, inhaling sharply. “Open up.” He grabs an inhaler and a bottle from the top of Niall’s desk and walks over as though he knows what he’s doing.

_ “No.” _ A low voice bursts from Niall’s mouth, and he convulses.

Liam shoves a pill past Niall’s lips as soon as they’re open, immediately following it up with the inhaler.

“What was that?” Zayn asks, eyes wide as he moves to grip Niall’s arm.

“Xanax.” Liam pops the cap back on, moving across the room.

“Good thinking,” Louis says, crossing his arms. “Every Todd I’ve ever met really likes a xanny.”

Niall starts laughing, tossing his shoulders around. “His name’s not Todd.”

“No one cares,” Harry and Zayn say at the same time, bumping fists as they watch to make sure Niall’s not having a seizure.

Niall clicks his tongue. “I hate dry-swallowing pills.”

“Dude, my only other idea was hitting you in the head until you passed out again,” Liam says, frowning as he backs away again.

“Small—small mercies,” Niall stutters out, spine going ram-rod straight. “I think I’m dying.”

Zayn launches himself forward, straddling Niall’s hips. “You’re fine, you’re fine. We’re figuring this out.”

“No you—he. You need to know the real name!” Niall yells, his hips colliding with Zayn’s. “That’s the only—”

“Help me!” Zayn yells, trying to calm Niall’s thrashing body.

Louis settles in near Harry, pressing one hand against Niall’s forehead. “You’re all right, love. You’re okay.” He holds out his other hand, and Harry immediately grasps it. He cough-snorts, blinking repeatedly. “Ragnarok? Niall, if you’re fucking with me, I will kill you and then myself.”

“I—I don’t—” Niall’s back arches nearly to bone-break, and then he collapses, head lolling to the side.

Zayn hands over the holy water as Liam thumbs his phone open. “What, you just had open a page about exorcisms, did you?” Louis mutters, shooting Liam a grateful glance as he gives over the phone. Taking Harry’s hand back in his own, he gestures for Liam to join them by Niall.

They circle around him, and Louis takes a deep breath.

Then he begins to speak.

:

They, each of them, black out at some point, the others keeping them in body contact as Louis tries to complete the ritual. 

Zayn rouses a few moments before Niall does, both of them sucking in deep breaths. Niall scrabbles at the tie on his face, screaming unintelligibly. Zayn pukes into the trashcan before falling sideways, throat feeling fiery. After a moment, Niall manages to yank the tie away from his eyes, and he starts to cy.

:

They bundle Niall into bed before Harry lights sage and incense in the apartment, humming quietly as he moves from room to room. Louis grabs two beers from the fridge, sitting cross-legged on the sofa as Liam collects blankets and pillows.

“We’re—we’re all staying here tonight, right? I just kind of assumed,” Liam asks, one shoulder coming up self-consciously as he lobs a pillow onto the couch.

“I’m not leaving him,” Louis says, jaw set.

“I’m not leaving anyone,” Harry adds, waving sage in Liam’s face.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Zayn sobs, face scrunching up. 

Louis hands him a beer.

“You’re not alone.” Harry ruffles Zayn’s hair, knowing full-well that Zayn hates when he does that.

“Never alone,” Liam agrees.

They all turn when Niall enters the room, looking disoriented and rumpled. “What the fuck.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Zayn says, shrugging gently. “Beer?”

“Sure.” He runs a finger along his jaw. “So, did I die? Or was it a near thing?”

“Near thing,” Louis says, settling onto the floor. They all stare at him. “What? It was!”

“Right,” Niall answers slowly. “Next time one of you gets possessed, I’ll bring the beer, I guess.”

“Sounds good,” Louis says, giving him a grin, raising his bottle up. “Holding you to that.”

Niall claps Harry and Liam on the back, moving to the kitchen to grab a drink. “Anyone want another?” he calls, smiling as his eyes go black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: musiclily
> 
> Fun story, I definitely DO NOT know how to do an exorcism


	4. Chapter 4

“This misplaced malevolence is getting monotonous,” Harry says, sighing slightly.

“Who died and made you swallow a dictionary?” Louis asks, before making a face. “Bad turn of phrase.”

“You think?” Niall cries, slapping his hands over his eyes yet again.

“Christ, Lou, read the room,” Liam mutters.

“Fine!” Louis says. “The room says something really shitty is happening.”

“Now we’re just mixing metaphors,” Harry counters.

“Let’s try not to panic,” Zayn says, furrowing his brows. “We have done this before, after all.”

“True,” Liam agrees, rounding on Niall. “How does this one feel?”

“Old.”

“Old.” Liam nods once. “What do we do with _ old?” _

“Take it out to pasture and shoot it in the face?” Louis responds, voice high.

“Read the room!” Zayn and Niall yell at him.

“Not helpful,” Harry agrees, shooting Louis an apologetic glance. “Um. So. How old are we talking?”

“Ancient.”

“Okay.”

“Like, it might speak Aramaic. That ancient.”

“Are you being possessed by the spirit of Jesus Christ?” Louis mutters, frowning.

“Louis!” the rest of them yell.

“Fine.” He crosses his arms. “I’ve already done my part. It’s not my fault that Niall’s soul is so gentle that seventeen spirits have decided to hitch a ride on his ass.”

“Goddamn it!” Niall says, immediately bursting into laughter. It breaks the tension a bit. “I hate this,” he adds, sobering up a bit.

“We know,” Zayn murmurs. He leans forward., settling one hand on Niall’s shoulder. “So, does this one need its name known too?”

“This one really doesn’t like me, so the picture is cloudy.”

“You sound like a Magic 8 ball,” Louis blurts out, immediately frowning.

“Louis!”

“Yeah, I know. I know.” He throws one hand up into the air. “Time and a place.”

“Time and a place,” Harry agrees. 

“So,” Liam begins slowly. “What’s the time and the place that he died?”

“She,” Niall says.

“Okay. And what does she want?”

“To hurt all of us.”

Louis steps forward slowly, darting his eyes around the room. He sets one hand on Niall’s other shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

Niall snorts before inhaling sharply. He rocks quickly out of Louis’ and Zayn’s grasp, shoulders going tight as he crouches down onto the floor. “This is not okay.”

“What’s her name?” Zayn yells.

“I don’t know!”

“What’s her name?” Harry yells.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s her name?” Liam whispers.

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Bro,” Louis asks, voice low. “What’s her name?”

“Mary.”

Louis frowns. “Really? Mary?”

Niall falls forward, forehead hitting the floor, where he promptly passes out.

Louis shakes his head, opening his bottle of holy water. “Here goes nothing.”

:

Niall rouses two hours later, licking his lips as he sits up. “So. That was a shitshow.”

“Yes,” Harry and Liam agree, while Louis and Zayn look at one another.

“Are you alone?” Zayn asks, voice low.

“I don’t even know anymore, but I think so.”

“I—” Louis begins, blinking. “I suppose that’s all we can ask for.”

He immediately collapses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, regroup,” Harry demands. “Where’s the holy water?”
> 
> Niall picks up the bottle. “Gone.”
> 
> “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't fucking know anymore.

“Fucking A,” Zayn says, kneeling down to peel open one of Louis’ eyelids. “Are we doomed?”

“Screw this,” Niall replies, kneeling beside Louis’ head. “We’re all going to live, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Do-do you have anything to say about it?” Harry mutters, casting his gaze from Niall to Zayn to Louis to Liam.

“What, do you think _ I’m _ doing this?” Niall asks.

“How the fuck do I know?”

“Look, we’re all panicked,” Liam says, holding his hands out as if to comfort everyone.

“You’re goddamn right we are!” Harry yells, wrapping his arms around his midsection. “I’m fucking terrified.”

“This isn’t my fault!” Niall starts to tear up, his eyes going glassy. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

“He was just trying to help,” Zayn adds, pushing the sweaty fringe off Louis’ forehead. “He was trying to help me, okay? If anything, it’s my fault.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that important,” Liam says, immediately clapping one hand over his mouth. He lowers his arms slowly. “Wow, that was really mean.”

“Okay, regroup,” Harry demands. “Where’s the holy water?”

Niall picks up the bottle. “Gone.”

“Shit.”

:

“Niall, do you feel, like. Prepared to drive? Or.” Zayn scratches his brow.

“I don’t really feel prepared for anything, but that’s the theme of today. So.” He grabs his car keys from the table. “Who’s calling shotgun?”

“Dibs,” Liam says, hefting Louis over his shoulder into a firefighter hold. “Figure Harry wants to be in the back with Lou. Get the door for me? Thanks a mil,” he adds, waiting for Harry to open the door for him. “Hop to it.”

“Rude.”

“You’re not the one carrying an unconscious body,” Liam points out, hefting Louis a little higher.

“You’re not the one in love with him!” Harry screams, tossing open the door, face murderous.

“Gay,” Zayn snorts, following Liam outside.

“Pot, kettle,” Niall responds, flicking Zayn in the forehead as he shuts the apartment door behind them all.

“Shut up, I’m bi.”

“Shut up, you’re not ever,” Niall says.

“Don’t tell me what I am!” Zayn yells, tossing his hands into the air.

“Read the room, Zayn!”

“How are all my friends absolute assholes,” Zayn mutters, pressing the button for the elevator.

“Like attracts like?” Harry ventures, ducking out of his way as Zayn tries to slap him.

“Fucking A.”

“Guess I’m driving, then,” Niall mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Stop bitching, you ridiculous cunts,” Liam says. “Someone google a goddamn church before the world ends.”

“I don’t really think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” Harry responds, tipping his head to one side.

“Well then, I don’t suppose you really know me.”

:  
Harry and Zayn sit in the back, Louis’ body laid across their knees. Liam and Niall sit in the front.

“Five minutes,” Harry instructs, giving directions towards St. Catherine’s.

They’re silent for the rest of the ride, and it’s interminable.

Harry storms through the front door of the church, and Liam follows closely behind. He tosses Louis into the baptismal font, toeing out of his shoes before climbing in after him. Liam cradles Louis’ head above the surface of the water. “I’m more the muscle here, so I need someone to bring out a bright idea.”

Harry immediately darts forward, making the sign of the cross on Louis’ forehead. Then he clambers into the font, opening Louis’ mouth and clamping shut his nose.

“Here goes nothing, I suppose,” he says as he starts to give Louis mouth-to-mouth.

Thirty seconds later, Louis kicks Harry off him, eyes shut tight. He knocks Liam’s arms away, and he dips his whole body into the water. Bubbles of breath surface slowly as Louis splashes about, Liam supporting his torso as Harry tries to handle his legs. 

Underwater, Louis screams.

The altar catches fire.

“Good or bad,” Zayn asks, whipping his head back and forth. “Good or bad?! I’m not Catholic!”

“Who the fuck’s Catholic,” Niall asks, leaning onto the lip of the font with one knee. He collects some holy water with his hands before running to the altar to douse the flames.

“Some people might be,” Liam says, pulling Louis above the surface again. “Go again, H.”

Harry leans in, blocking Louis’ nose as he gives mouth-to-mouth.

Louis slaps at Harry’s arms, knocking them away from his face. White mist pistons out of his nostrils as he curls into Liam’s embrace.

“What the fuck?” Niall asks from his spot near the altar.

“What the goddamn fuck,” Zayn asks, raking one hand through his hair, voice catching.

“What the fuck,” Harry and Liam say simultaneously, watching as Louis falls into the water of the baptismal font.

Within seconds, Louis bursts out of the water. “What the fucking fuck?” he asks, wiping his eyes. “Am I dead?”

Niall shrugs, looking at Zayn. “Don’t think so?”

“Great,” Louis sighs. “In that case, can someone find me a towel?”

“Uh,” Niall says, frowning. “How about a cloth from this half-burnt—”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Harry replies, storming out of the font. “Must one do everything.” He stomps into the sacristy, returning with three purple robes.

“Holy shit,” Niall says, eyes wide as he watches Harry’s movements.

“Yes,” Harry agrees. “Holy indeed.” He immediately sits down on the last pew and starts to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s fine,” Liam agrees, yanking Louis upright. “Right as rain.”
> 
> Until.
> 
> “Apres moi, le deluge,” Louis says in a sing-song voice, tipping his head backwards. He cracks the back of his head on the edge of the baptismal font.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, my loves.

Louis sputters, coughing, snorting water out of his nose. “I feel like death warmed over.”

“You look it,” Liam agrees, but his words are belied by the fact that he’s yanking Louis into a tight hug.

Niall and Zayn shoot one another panicked glances. Zayn pulls a face when Niall shrugs, dropping the robes. They both move towards Harry, Niall slinging two arms around his shoulders from behind while Zayn shoves him over to sit beside him in the pew. Harry’s still got his face buried in his hands, racking sobs coming from his mouth.

“It’s fine,” Zayn says as Niall squeezes in tight.

“It’s fine,” Liam agrees, yanking Louis upright. “Right as rain.”

Until.

“Apres moi, le deluge,” Louis says in a sing-song voice, tipping his head backwards. He cracks the back of his head on the edge of the baptismal font.

“Stop it!” Harry yells, surging to his feet, knocking both Niall and Zayn aside. “This isn’t funny!” He curls his hands into fists, rounding to glare at Louis, whose head is gently lolling around, smile teasing his lips.

“I’ve had too much Aramaic for one night,” Zayn sighs, moving so that he’s cross-legged in the pew.

“That’s not—” Niall and Liam begin, but Zayn cuts them off.

“I know it’s not Aramaic, you dickheads! I just don’t know what the fuck it means!” He rakes his fingers through his hair.

Louis widens his eyes, smile widening. “It’s French.”

“It—it,” Harry starts to say, before his voice breaks.

_ “After me, the flood,” _ Louis adds, ducking away as Liam tries to move closer to him.

“It—it means he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care what happens, or, like, _ it _ doesn’t care what comes next.”

“Next?” Niall whispers, setting one hand on the back of Zayn’s neck so, so gently. He feels Zayn shudder.

“After—afterwards.”

Louis’ grin turns sharp, teeth bared. “After it all comes to an end.” For a moment, he looks feral. “After I _ end him.” _

“Fuck this _ shit,” _ Niall growls, turning around. “Li, grab him.”

“No!” Louis protests, thrashing away from him, but in this instance, Liam is quicker. He’s able to wrap his arms around Louis’ waist, pulling his own chest flush to Louis’ back.

“H, help me here,” Liam asks just before Louis elbows him in the throat.

They thrash as Harry clambers back into the font, straddling Louis so he can grab him by the wrists and encircle Louis’ legs with his own. He and Liam make eye contact over Louis’ shoulder, Liam’s eyes still watering from the pain of being hit in the throat.

“Any day now!” Liam yells, casting a glance towards Zayn and Niall. Liam, Harry, and Louis tip sideways as Louis thrashes.

They move to the lip of the font, Zayn more hesitant than Niall. “Hey bud,” Niall murmurs, flicking his finger into Louis’ nose. “You’re still in there, you know.”

Louis—or, well, Louis’ _ face _ —snarls, and he tries to snap at Niall’s fingers.

“Attaboy,” Niall agrees, nodding. “Come back here for a sec, yeah? I need to talk to you.”

Harry moves his hands from Louis’ wrists into Louis’ hands, bringing them up to rest on his shoulders. Louis presses in hard with his fingertips, making Harry wince.

“H, are you—” Zayn begins, but Harry just closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

“Just go,” Harry grits out. “Go on.”

“Come on, dude,” Niall coaches, “I’ve got you.” He brushes Louis’ wet bangs away from his eyes. “You’re stronger than that thing, and I’m gonna tell you what to do.”

Louis’ eyes shut, then flutter open again, with relative clarity. “Hi, Ni,” he slurs, his upper half going limp against Liam’s chest. His hands are still tight where he’s holding onto Harry, so the three of them tumble together, Liam nearly going under the water.

He eventually grounds himself, grunting as he tries to right both Louis and Harry along with his own body. Niall gives them each an apologetic look before moving forward again, patting Louis’ cheek as Harry backs away slightly, letting go slowly. “Hi, Lou. It’s me. You’re right here, buddy.”

“Right here,” Louis agrees, chin tipping down so quickly that Harry can barely catch him before his face pitches into the water. He heaves forward, Louis putting his palms flat against Louis’ collarbones, wincing as he does so.

“So, what you’ve gotta do is—remember what we did before?”

“Fizzy.” Louis’ eyes flutter closed.

“Yeah,” Niall sighs, brushing water off Louis’ face. “She helped me figure out what to do.”

“I thought she—”

“She’s a good one, Lou, you already know that,” Niall replies on a small exhale. 

Louis nods slowly, and his shoulders sag.

“But you’ve gotta do something, yeah?”

“Too hard.”

“Because the thing’s in your head?”

“S’everywhere.” Without Liam behind him, his limp figure would surely slip beneath the surface of the water.

“I know, and the thing is, now I know what to do, though.”

“Nope.” Louis pops the _ p. _

Zayn snorts.

“Read the room,” Liam hisses, hefting Louis up slightly higher on his chest.

“We—in a church, Li, s’too much to read.” He knocks his head back, stiffening up. “Too much to feel.”

“I know!” Niall agrees, placing his hand on Louis’ shoulder, just above where Harry’s pressing in firmly. “I know. You have to picture something in your head, like a box, or a locker. An empty one.”

“Like a shoebox?”

“Sure, a shoebox.” They can all hear Niall swallow, audibly. His face grows grim as he meets the gazes of Liam, Harry, and Zayn in turn, giving them each a small nod. He moves away slowly “Open it up, give it a look.”

“But it’s empty.”

“Now shove that thing inside, close the lid, and _ set it all on fire.” _

He thrashes for minutes longer than they would like or prefer, Harry whimpering as he tries to keep Louis anchored, Liam pale with his arms tight against Louis’ body, Zayn pacing around like he wants to bolt from the room, Niall stone-still except for the few moments he bites at his thumbnail.

Louis goes limp again, only Harry and Liam there to keep him from submerging again. For his part, Zayn sits down directly down on the floor, curling his legs up so he can wrap his arms around his shins. He buries his face into the V of his bent-up knees.

Niall collapses beside him, star-fishing across the floor.

“Hey?” Louis begins, licking holy water off his lips. “I lit the funeral pyre, and the fucker’s gone. But.” He takes two deep breathes. “I might pass out again.”

While he’s unconscious, Liam and Harry haul him out of the font and set him on the robes still pooled on the floor. Liam stands up, shaking water off himself, rolling his shoulders. Harry settles clumsily by Louis’ side, narrowly avoiding a collision with Liam’s legs.

“This probably isn’t ideal to say,” Zayn says, kneeling down to dry Louis’ face, curling the sleeve of a robe around part of his torso, “but we—”

“But we’ve basically desecrated a sacred space? I was thinking the same thing” Liam adds precisely as Harry tips forward and starts to cry again.

“Guys,” Niall snaps, voice cold in a way they rarely hear it. “Shut the fuck up, please.”

Then Louis coughs, spitting a mist of water into the air. After a few rough moments, he hums a bit. “Yep. Motherfucker really is gone.”

“Okay, so we’ve absolutely desecrated a sacred place,” Liam mutters, backing away.

“I thought the whole point was that she didn’t get fucked,” Harry murmurs, wiping at his eyes. “Wasn’t she a virgin?”

Liam, Zayn, and Niall give Harry looks that range from indulgent to disgusted, but Louis just opens his arms wide so that Harry can collapse into them, snuggling into the crook of Louis’ neck. “Stop it with your things at my boy,” Louis says, voice going raw as he coughs again.

“You’re really okay?” Zayn asks, and he’s looking at Niall, brows knit together.

“I’ve been better,” Louis sighs, but he’s smiling into Harry’s hair.

“I guess I’m okay,” Liam says, knocking backwards so he can sit on his haunches.

“No comment,” Harry responds, in classic not-really-answering-a-question fashion.

Eventually, Liam shucks off his shirt and grabs a purple robe, drying off his torso and hair. “Good thing I was a lifeguard over the summer.”

Niall blows a raspberry as Zayn rolls his eyes, while both Louis and Harry half-chuckle, maybe.

“Plus, you’d make a shitty priest.” Zayn gives a coy smile, like his comment is an afterthought, but he shoots Niall and Liam glances in equal measures.

They all do some semblance of a drip-dry until the shivers set in.

“So,” Louis drawls, gently dislodging Harry as he sits up. He stretches his arms above his head, biceps taut.

“Oh no,” Liam says with a heavy sigh, wringing water out of his shirt, his wet pants sticking to his legs.

“I swear to fucking god,” Zayn adds, rolling his eyes even while he feels something warm building in his chest.

“This better be good.” Harry feigns warning tones, running both hands through his wet hair, tousling it forward.

“Anyone wanna go for a drive?” Louis asks, voice light and teasing. 

“Jesus Christ—”

“Are you—”

“Fucking—”

Louis interrupts them. “I just think I’ve had enough swimming for the day, that’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: musiclily
> 
> Yes I DID just read Doctor Sleep.
> 
> Comments and criticism more than welcome
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: musiclily
> 
> Yes the "ghostie" Harry line is from one of his interviews


End file.
